Radical Violence and Other Fairytales
by queenofthelab23
Summary: Continuation of Winter, Spring, Summer and Fall but can play apart. Often, Aaron looks at Marta and wonders when it all changed. There's only so much strain two people can take in the search for a fairytale... will it turn out into a nightmare? M rated chapter three. Now complete. To be continued in Tales of the Sin Eaters.
1. Chapter 1

Hi there! So this is a continuation of Winter, Spring, Summer and Fall but I think it can stand alone (I would love it if you've read the first one, though :) ) This is Aaron and Marta dealing with trying to find another place to settle, with Marta becoming colder, and with Aaron trying to negotiate with himself about his conflicting feelings towards it.

I hope everyone likes this because I think it's a little risky and new to me to be dealing with this kind of thing... so, please, if you like it, please please review :) writers love reviews because they make us better at what we do (to me at least!). I love this pairing and I can't seem to stay away from them... (Also buoyed by the announcement of a sequel to Bourne Legacy, YAY!)

Here comes Aaron and Marta in their journey towards safety...

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Radical Violence and Other Fairytales

1

Aaron wakes in the middle of the night; the sweltering humidity rouses him easily these days and discovers her gone again. He knows where she is, where she always is now. He gets up from their sleeping bag on the floor of a wooden hut and looks out the window to Marta sitting cross-legged on the beach, unloading and reloading her gun until the sun comes up. She does it every day now.

Two long months. Two months since he'd first seen the steeliness of a warrior in her eyes. Two months since they ran from their utopia of a cottage in England, leaving it to burn to the ground. Aaron is proud, so proud, of her. Two months of running, holding her at night as their hands intertwine and making love have given him pause to consider their options. They couldn't stay in England anymore; they have to keep moving and moving. There have been no battles since she held that gun and shot an agent sent to capture them, but they still train together. Every morning, they train and scrounge what they can from wherever they're laying their heads for the night.

He feels her hand in his get bolder and braver with each passing day, the first resonance of her survival instinct kicking in. The coldness in her eyes disappears only for him and people in need when they meet them; she can't stop tending to people who need her. She is an unselfish woman made of better substance than a man like him deserves to keep but he cannot help but love her. Aaron loves her as much as he can believe himself and keeping her alive and happy day to day has become his life's mission. He's a dangerous man, has been for as long as he can remember, but Marta? Marta is a trigger finger, readying to go off at any second, wading into another battle for a lost cause.

The coast of some Greek island, somewhere he wouldn't tell her, is their home for now. He's told her, once, that no place is safe for them and certainly this little warm island isn't either but it makes her happy to lie in the sun and it certainly makes him happy to watch her sunbathe topless on the beach. Three months ago, she'd blush when he'd tell her of his fascination with her skin, how it went pink and then turned slightly golden and yet stayed soft as silk in sunlight. Now, when he tells her about his love of her body, she smirks gleefully and he kisses her sexy cockiness back into that lithe form. It's her favourite pastime, to wind him around her finger and let him go now. The way she caresses a gun in their training sessions every morning makes him want to push her up against a tree or a rock or just push her down into the sand and do things most people would deem to be despicable. He loves it that way.

The new Marta, the Viking warrior he awoke is closer to agent now than he likes. He had worn the pills around his neck as a chain and feeding tube, forcing him to rely on and hate Outcome in equal measures when he was training, but she is loose and wild like an animal. He couldn't get much of a jump on her anymore. Early mornings, which she used to hate, are now spent wrestling on the sand but quickly descend into frantic sessions of tasting and taking each other in a battle climax for pleasure. It amazes him how much of a kink she has for disaster. The warrior doesn't only come out in times of war, it seems. He hates to admit it, even to himself, but the win/lose rate between them is getting closer with every day and Aaron kind of likes being beaten.

He doesn't want her to make a vice from a virtue. Lately, Aaron still sees the tension in her at times, the sadness of her lost family, the need for a home. They're fugitives and proud of it but he sees the longing for stability in her every day. He's used to being without family, to being without anything but Marta had once felt the love of her family and now it's been stolen from her. He wants to give it back to her, gift wrapped. If making her happy meant fighting for survival to get her back to her real family, he won't stop until he gets what she wants.

He thinks blindly to their little home in England and reminisces about fantasies of marrying her. Seeing their home burn to the ground has given Aaron a reason to jump back into reality. Fantasies are only that. They may love each other but it can't ever be enough; not for her until she can see her family again and not for him until he can give it to her. Their sojourn into domesticity fell flat on its face because they had fallen into the trap of believing it to be real.

She's been distant. He catches her looking at him when she's gutting fish he's caught. Marta smiles more now but there's something… something bubbling under the surface threatening to boil. There's tension when he wakes after the sun's come up to find her wrapped around him as his blanket. She's unreadable as she kisses his neck and he makes love to her slowly but she can't look at him in the eyes. Aaron wonders whether she blames him for her loss and he realises he blames him too.

She's survived massacres and assassination attempts, killed a LARX agent, ran all over the world, and shot another agent in the head without so much as a flinch but now he thinks she's realised her hands are as deadly as her intellect. He's known all along he's had a penchant for her dangerous side but even Aaron doesn't want her to make a saint from a sinner. She's scared of him and what she's becoming. He's scared too.

"Marta." He says quietly, sitting down on the beach alongside her. Her features are soft as ever, even more so by the torchlight in front of her. It makes her eyes glow a little more gold and he's reminded how beautiful she is again. "We have to talk."

"We always talk." She chuckles, running her fingers through her hair. She curls her knees up to her chest and lays her chin on them, looking at him, "But yeah, we do…" she nods.

Aaron puts her hand on top of his, "I know you miss your family."

"Of course I do."

Aaron looks at her, "I'm going to get you back to them."

"No." she says finally. Her tone doesn't betray any lie. Why doesn't she want to go back?

"What?" Aaron frowns a little, "I thought-"

"Then you thought wrong." She grabs a gun and reloads it, pulling back the safety, "I don't want to go back to them now; it'll only make them hate me even more. I won't go back to see them hate me, Aaron. Especially not now."

Aaron cups her cheek and deftly she points the gun to his head. He got the drop on her and that's her natural response. "Marta. Tell me what's wrong."

"Stop ordering me around, aren't you scared? I have a loaded gun to your head and you haven't even tried to stop me. What the hell kind of agent are you?" she drops the gun to the sand.

Aaron grabs her chin a little harder. "I'm not an agent, remember? I'm not a number anymore, Marta. I don't stop you because I trust you, don't you trust me?"

"With my life." She looks into his eyes. "But it's… you'll hate me. We're going to get captured and tortured and it's my fault."

Now he's confused. "How the hell is it your fault? It's theirs, not yours or mine. They're the ones who keep coming for us, they won't let up."

She wrestles her chin from his grip and stands up, "Exactly. They aren't going to stop but you'll want to stop, to settle…"

"I thought that was what you wanted, to make a home again!" he stands up to meet her as the sun starts to come up. He's angry, so angry at how she's giving up so easily. How can she give up so easily when all she's done since is fight? "Or is this it? You're leaving now I've trained you enough so you can survive alone?" he seethes through his teeth and instantly regrets it as he sees a tear drip, unnoticed, down her cheeks.

"I can't survive alone, you… moron!" she stomps her foot and presses a finger into his chest, "I never could survive without you, not since you barrelled your way out of my pantry and just blew it all to hell."

He grabs her wrists and holds them apart, pulling her closer to him. "Then why is it ruined _now_? Why is it your fault?"

She pants a little. The dappled sunlight there is tells him she's more scared than she ever has been, her darting eyes spin around his face. She's pleading for leniency. Aaron looks into her face and sees the Marta of before.

"Because I… I think I'm pregnant."

Whatever explanation Aaron is expecting, it isn't that.

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A/N: Told you it was risky... :) what do you think?


	2. Chapter 2

So most people seem to be enjoying this :) thank you for the incredible response for the first chapter. I love this little drama I'm having with them. Now Aaron's been put into a situation he's never been trained for and there's a lot of hurdles to jump. Do you think he's ready or even able to be a father?

Anyway, I hope you all like this one :) and if you're wondering, chapter 11 of Anchored will be up tomorrow night and I hope there'll be a little announcement with it too :) (I'm evil, remember?)

If you like this chapter, please review. It's still a risk to be going down this mostly untested line with them and I'm still learning. Hope you enjoy!

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2

He blinks. He breathes. Whatever it is, it's not sinking in. What was that again? She's pregnant or may be pregnant or not pregnant? It's Schrodinger's cat and she wants to open the box. If she is pregnant, it's his baby. Aaron swallows and feels her eyes piercing him. Raising a baby on the run isn't possible, so logically it's better if she's wrong, if she's pregnant at all and yet there's a part of him that wants a family, craves a family and a home in _her_. It's a selfish thing to desire, the possibility of a life, but Aaron thinks he deserves a break from hell, even in fantasy.

He has no doubt she'd be an amazing mother and he hopes he'd be a good father. Except he wouldn't. Aaron is volatile, a weapon made from war and bad intentions. He could protect people, he could save people, he could eliminate threats and throw a punch, but he isn't fit to be a father, not with everything he's seen and done. Aaron isn't exactly a genetic goldmine. What if the baby is like him? Born an idiot with the IQ to match it. He imagines every scenario, every bad scenario, in his head. It's his own fault.

He should have made sure they were safe, that she was safe. A pregnancy is always risky, he knows, but a pregnancy while dodging people who want to see you dead on the ground? She could have all kinds of complications or lose the baby and Aaron knows it'll kill her either way. Fuck. What is he going to do? He keeps staring at her. He should say something. Say something!

"Pregnant?" he manages to utter.

She chews on her lip, "I think so. But I need a-"

"Test, yeah." He nods and runs his fingers through his hair. His eyes stray down to her stomach and flicker back up. "I just… I don't understand. When I first joined Outcome, they gave me a vasectomy."

"I know, I know but I swear I haven't had sex or anything with anyone else in nearly two years, Aaron, if I am pregnant it's yours." Her hands hold onto his shoulders desperately. He doesn't doubt her. They've never spent more than 10 minutes apart, if that. He knows it's his. God. His baby. She could be having his baby.

Now he can't take his eyes away from her stomach. "We should find out. I'll go and get a test from the mainland."

Marta leans into him and he's not sure what to feel. He loves her, wants to marry her in an ideal world but this isn't an ideal world; they needed freedom first. As if freedom is ever going to be possible.

"Aaron, please don't look at me like that." She mutters. He looks up and sees her eyes are glistening with unshed tears. Even warriors bleed.

He melts immediately and wraps his powerful arms around her suddenly tiny frame. She could break if he holds her too tight. Aaron has to protect her from the devils in the world and that means him too. Marta deserves a better life and now she's tied to him forever. He's selfishly happy. She has a reason to stay now, stay with him, even if it means her life may be in more danger. He tries to rationalise his own selfish need for her; it's instinct, protection of his potential progeny but it's not enough. All Aaron Cross craves is her and a family.

Growing up, all he'd ever dreamt of was a family, a purpose, and love that he'd been cruelly denied. Now that he's found a piece in his puzzle he isn't about to just give it up willingly. Marta's sunk into his shoulder and he can't help but comfort her, his calloused paddles of hands tenderly run up and down her back. He won't give her up for anything.

"I think…" she mutters against his chest, "I think when you viralled off on greens… the virus spreads to your very DNA, changed your chromosomes and healed you quicker internally." She pulls back a little and looks at him, "Even stuff that was intentionally _cut_."

"So the viralling healed the vasectomy. That's how…" He lets out another breath. "How long have you thought you might be pregnant?"

Marta runs her fingers through her hair, having pulled back from him completely. She seems to glow a little in the barely new sunlight. "Two weeks, maybe three. I thought it was just stress or something but then we settled here and I'm not stressed here. I'm happy, Aaron, I really am." She smiles at him. "I want to stay."

He wants to indulge her like he did before, wants to keep them together in this beautiful paradise together, god, to be together. "We can't." Those words kill him.

"But we're fine here, this place isn't inhabited, I doubt it's even got a fucking name, Aaron. Please, I want to stay."

"It's not safe, Doc."

"It's not safe anywhere!" she shakes her head, "Remember? It's not safe anywhere."

"More the reason we have to keep moving, we can't stay for more than a few weeks, a couple of months at the most."

She shakes her head, "Well our plans just changed. This baby changes everything."

"We don't even know if you're pregnant yet, Marta. We need to think of all the options."

"Screw the fucking options." He blinks as she yells. Marta never yells. "The options have changed. I know I can't be sure, not 100 per cent; but I _know_, Aaron. I've treated women who were pregnant and I know the symptoms and I know my own body. I know."

Oh. A freight train weight crashes onto his shoulders. For once in his life as Aaron Cross he's not sure what to do. He has no answers, no plan, no control. "Baby."

"Yes, Aaron. Baby." She takes a step towards him. "I know it's not what we planned but it's happened and I won't regret it." She chews her lip as he stays silent, staring at her. "Please say something before I break your nose like I did in France."

"I love you." He mutters and claims her lips for his. Maybe he is selfish, maybe he's a weapon, maybe he's insane for thinking this can work. Maybe this is all a dream of his fevered mind and he's still in Manila with a virus running through him. Maybe it's a gift or a curse.

All Aaron wants is a family, and here's Marta handing it to him on a damaged platter for the taking. He can't bring himself to tell her it'll never work; he wants it to work so bad that her belief is enough to make him bend again. He's a weak man after all. Aaron keeps kissing her lips softly, leaning back and sighing a little, "We'll make it work. I'll find a way to make it safe for us. All of us." He swallows. They both know it's a lie but neither cares. He kisses the corner of her mouth as she sighs. "Is that why you've been getting up early? The morning sickness?"

She shakes her head, "No, I think it's too early for morning sickness yet." Marta seems thin, so thin. She needs feeding; immediately. They don't have food? What kind of man is he?

"You should eat. Go and lie down, I'll catch you some fish for breakfast, okay? I promise."

"Aaron…"

"Or I can hunt down one of the boars and you can have some fatty protein, it'll put some weight on you."

"Aaron…"

He's panicking. His heart is racing even more. Aaron needs to provide for her, to make this work and make his lie of a life true again. "I should go to the mainland now, it's not that far. Get you comfier pillows and proper food and everything you need."

She grabs his hair and pulls back, "Aaron. Stop. I'm fine, the baby's fine. I don't need luxuries we can't afford, I just need you to keep calm." She kisses him, "So calm down, please?"

He breathes. Aaron puts a paddle calloused palm on her stomach light as a feather. He doesn't want to do any more damage, especially not now. "It doesn't feel any different yet."

"It won't for a while." She mutters, looking down, "Not for a couple months maybe."

Aaron knows this is going to change everything. It'll make their lives even more dangerous, even more fraught. Being a warrior isn't enough for either of them now, or it never was. Strength can only get you so far in life. It feels like power in your hands but then it slowly turns to pain when you realise there's nothing you have to give but strength. He has no idea what to do.

It scares him to think not only is he responsible for her, a woman he's trained so well, but he's now responsible for the life growing inside her. It's all on his shoulders; his entire burden to carry but Marta's the one who has to feel the pain. It doesn't seem fair. He leans up and kisses her again, pushing his fears and panics down. He's going to give her the world.

Or die trying.

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A/N: So you think that was ominous? Or am I being evil again? :)


	3. Chapter 3

Hi :) thanks for the reviews on the last chapter. This is the last in this fic's trilogy but watch out for that ending... I hope you guys like it. This specific chapter has M rated activities... oh yes.. Please read and review.

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3

Two minutes isn't enough to change a life, normally. 120 seconds are easily counted in your head and they don't amount to much. It's not even worth mentioning, day to day. Two minutes are inconsequential. It's just common knowledge, right? Aaron's learning how two minutes – 120 seconds – can change your whole life. Aaron trusts Marta not to take stupid risks in normality. She's not the kind of girl to act on impulse like lesser people tend to do. As soon as the little row boat, somehow as sturdy as it is rickety, leaves the shore he looks at her standing on the beach like a beacon and has his own impulses tested. The breeze whips her hair back again and he glimpses the danger glinting around her like fairy dust or gunpowder. He's leaving her in limbo with nothing but the waves for company while he gets them an answer; positive or negative. He doesn't doubt her instincts; this just is something that could potentially take the safety off the gun to their heads and he needs to know if it's loaded.

She's beautiful enough in the morning sun for him to forget that she's still human. Aaron still thinks of Marta as a fighter, full of fear and fantastic fantasies and he wants to stand by her side as she realises she's more than just warrior or scientist or slayer. She's everything and more to him. Bringing a child into a death sentence isn't going to be practical. Even if they had shaken off the shackles and hidden, it's not permanent or temporary. He's promised her a home on this island but he knows it's insane. She's wonderful enough for him not to care that it's a lie. She's happier with the lie and so is he, when the truth is too horrific to picture. They'll grab whatever happiness they can find and right now, he's hoping hers is the lie of a perfect home.

There's a lot of longing in his heart for a home. He remembers Marta in a lab coat and glasses, the walking cliché, and he smiles at how different she is now. When he'd be sitting on her lab table, Aaron would sneak looks down her shirt and make smart ass remarks to her questions.

_He'd already stripped off and into the scrubs, his worn clothes dumped on the chair._

"_We need to do a full body work up. It's been too long."_

"_Do you charge by the hour for those?" he'd asked as he dangled his feet off the edge and swung them like a child, "I'd spend everything I've got on you, Doc."_

_He could tell she's trying not to smirk. They told her to keep her cool. "I'm sure I have no need for cheap jewellery and Old Spice."_

"_Feisty." He smirked the way she wasn't allowed to. "You should take off those glasses, you know… shake out that hair and say 'your library book is overdue, sir.'" She jabbed a needle in his arm but he didn't even flinch._

"_Just a little prick." She muttered and turned her back, facing those damn test tubes she loved, "Count down from a hundred…"When he woke up, she was gone and his clothes were neatly folded on the same old chair._

It feels like a lifetime ago she was this untouchable, unobtainable, unconquerable dream.

Aaron's sighing a little as he stares at his watch, the hands ticking around the dial, foot stepping to a path. 120 seconds doesn't seem like much time but it's dragging by so fucking slowly he wants to shoot something. "Will you stop pacing?" she mutters, arms crossed and her foot tapping. "You're making me even more nervous."

"Is that possible?" he stops pacing. "How long?"

"55 seconds." She has this preternatural ability to make him jittery. "What if I'm wrong?"

"What if you're right? He sits next to her on the floor, "I never knew my mother's name."

Marta glances at him and he's not sure he's willing to remind her of his genetics given the situation. "She should have been there for you."

"I don't blame her." 45 seconds. "She was 16 or something, they told me. Got knocked up and dumped me on a doorstep like in those old movies."

40 seconds. "I bet she never forgot you. She's probably out there somewhere. You never wanted to find her? You had the skills before this shit happened…" Marta's head hits the wood as she looks at him. Her legs are stretched out in front of her.

"No. I don't ever want to know who she is." 30 seconds. He looks at his watch. "I'm not Kenneth anymore; he's dead and buried somewhere in the Middle East. I never liked that name anyway."

She chuckles a little, "So, no naming the baby Kenny then." Marta picks up the test with 15 seconds to go. "Aaron…" she leans in to his shoulder, "I'm not going to give up." 5 seconds.

"I know." He grabs the test suddenly from her hand and looks at it. "It's positive."

At first he laughs and she does too. Somewhere in the back of his mind, he'd figured this for another chance at a family destined to be dashed in favour of a broken heart.

"I'm pregnant?" Marta's still laughing, "Really?"

"Really, really." He shows her the test with the blue lines. "You're having a baby."

"Your baby."

Then it clicks. She's having his baby. _His _baby. Aaron turns his head, "Mine." He murmurs, "Marta…"

"This is a virility thing isn't it?" she smiles as he kisses the corner of her lips.

Aaron threads his fingers through her hair, "Oh it's definitely everything you think it is." She smells so good. He buries his face in her neck and places a single hot kiss on her throat. "Okay, so maybe it's a virility thing too."

"Aaron, just go with it." She moans a little as his teeth scrape over her pulse. "No more worrying, remember?"

"I remember. Living for the moment, that kind of thing…" He captures her lips in a searing kiss that tastes even sweeter, pulling her onto his lap and she straddles him closer. He can't put his finger on what it is that makes her irresistible. Maybe it is the fact she's carrying his baby; it's like rain cooling his face in the desert, a little relief from something so scorching and hot that it hurt. Rain's a good thing. "Doc, Doc, Doc… the things you do to me." He pulls her khaki vest from her body and kisses her again. "How come you smell so good?" he chuckles and runs his hands up her back slowly.

She grinds down onto his crotch and he shudders, "Could be your senses picking up my hormones or pheromones or… I don't even care anymore…" He sits up straight and she drags his shirt from his muscled chest.

He wraps a hand around her throat and slides it to the back of her neck, bringing her lips back down to his. It's frenzied and fevered and Marta tastes even more of Marta than before when he swipes her tongue across his in the desperate need to taste every inch of her to see if it's better. He grabs her hips and pulls her clothed crotch against his. He's already hard and he needs her so badly. He's not a seducer anymore; he's just a man who'll worship on bended knee for a sweet kiss.

"Never stop." she murmurs as he tears off her bra. "I need you so bad."

"My kind of woman."

Marta stands up and pulls off her shorts and panties, letting them drop to the floor beneath her. She's already barefoot. He just stares up at her from his position on the floor and puts his hands on her thighs, just looking at her. Aaron leans up and kisses her knees tenderly. He lifts his own hips and pulls his pants down, kicking the things away. She bends down and kisses him, sliding to sit on his thighs. His hands run down her back and squeeze her impossible firm backside. "Aaron." She moans a little as her hand wraps itself around his hard cock. "You need me too. I can feel it."

"I always wanted you." He lifts her hips up and sinks her down. She's impaled on him. He grits his teeth to keep from coming already; it's so hard not to lose control when there's a goddess writhing in his lap, a goddess carrying his baby. "You jabbed me with that needle and you changed it all, Marta." She's panting as she lifts up and down on him. God, she is so beautiful, "You were sexy and confident and the only one I met in fucking years that treated me like a human."

"I called you Number Five." She cries out as he thrusts his hips up to meet hers. He loves catching her off guard.

"What's in a name?" he thrusts up into her harder and she grabs his shoulders, "Fuck, Marta, you're so wet for me." He stares at her breasts shaking and licks his lips. Aaron pulls her flat to his chest. "Hold on tight."

She grips her fingers into his back and gasps as he lifts them up easily, carrying her gently to the nearest flat surface and lies her back down, bringing her hips to the edge of what turns out to be a table. "Get back inside me now." She orders and Aaron smirks, parting her thighs a little wider to see her in her nakedness.

"You're still as bossy as when I was on _your_ table." He slams back into her tight body and Marta screams his name in pleasure. He pants and plants his palms on either side of her head.

Aaron keeps so still inside her. He wants her to beg. Loves it when she begs. "You love control."

"Hello? Scientist!" she groans, "Variables are controlled." She says through gritted teeth.

He pulls back out and slides into her again. "I want to make you come."

"Then why are you going so slowly?" Marta licks her lips and looks up at him. He soothes the hair away from face with one hand and thrusts in and out.

She closes her eyes and arches her back as he rubs a thumb around her clit. Marta is powerful over him and he can't wait to find out how much he'll bend to her every whim now. He's a weak man. "I want to see you. Open your eyes and let me watch." She cries out again as he starts thrusting deeper and slower, his hand holding her hip while his thumb keeps up a pattern. Marta grabs onto the side of the table desperately as she starts to come. "Open your eyes, Marta."

Aaron sees the galaxy in her irises explode in golden hues as she comes, swirling, dancing, crackling, mixing, sparking out loud. She's gunpowder igniting and he set the fuse. He can't stand it anymore and thrusts through her orgasm, crying her name on his lips as he comes too. Sweaty, naked, writhing together on a sea of ecstasy, together against whatever would come their way. Their world is about to change but there's no way in hell he's going to let it change her like it changed him. Aaron is too much in love with Dr Marta Shearing, all the versions of her. After all… what's in a name? She still smells sweet.

Byer runs his fingers over his weary eyes, midnight near Maryland. Late nights and reports of burned dead bodies turning up in England are the last thing he needs this past year. Jason Bourne had gone off the radar completely and Cross and Shearing were nowhere to be found again. He'd gotten so, so close to capturing the three people who could expose America's atrocities to the world and land him in the traitor's chair. It's more than that now. It's more than a game of kiss chase with the three he'd made sure were labelled as terrorists. Maybe they're too good. Maybe he's not good enough. He's gone through all his contacts, set up new LARX agents and none have succeeded since the newbies in England had gotten killed for their incompetence and defiance of orders. Now he's dragging his heels for something to use. He has to regain the edge.

"Sir?" some lackey mutters, putting papers down in front of him. "Sir, Cross was been spotted near Greece two days ago."

"Authenticated?" he mutters lazily. Rarely did genuine photos turn up.

"Yes sir."

Byer's head snaps up and he pulls open the file, rifling through it like a mad man. There's a grainy black and white photo of the agent he despises, cap on his head and sunglasses but it's _him._ He's just made his first big mistake. "Wait…" Byer mutters, turning the paper around. There's something tucked into the lining of Aaron's thin jacket. A white box with a brand on it, a brand he knows with a picture he knows. There's no mistaking what it is. Byer's face contorts into a smile. Oh yes. Now there's leverage.

"Sir, do you need me to send out a recon team to Greece?"

"No." he's still smirking. "No. We're going to sit this one out on the side lines for now. Spiders only go for the centre of the web when they have prey caught in it." He looks up at the lackey. "We're going to wait for our prey to get caught."

"How long are we waiting, sir?"

"Oh… I'd say nine months or so. Cross's fairy tale is coming to an end."

Oh yes. Now _that's_ leverage.

To be continued in

**Tales of the Sin Eaters**

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A/N: So, what do you think? :) leave me some love, I could use it right now and I think so could poor Aaron.


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